Held After Class
by WretchedWriter
Summary: Strange things are happening with Professor Snape. Perhaps he's been pushed too far? So who will be there on the receiving end; who will be held after class . . .?
1. Default Chapter

Held After Class 

**by wretchedscar**

**© June 29, 2003**

**  
Disclaimer: Harry Potter and all of its entities belong to J.K. Rowling.  No infringement intended.**

**Genre:  HP/SS/DM -  R – Slash **

*** * ***

**Wednesday, November 15th, 'The Present' . . . Potions Classroom . . . **

            "Get.  Out.  _All of you_!" 

            The potions class sat there, stunned.  No one moved, no one said a thing.  Every single student in the class, Gryffindors and Slytherins alike sported the same look – one of sheer horror and intrigue.

            It hadn't been Potter or even Longbottom this time – it had been Draco.  Draco Malfoy.  The young Slytherin had called the shots today and had created quite the scene.  He had been doing that a _lot_ lately.

            "WELL?" Professor Severus Snape was silently shaking in fury.  "GET OUT!"

            "Pro-professor?" Hermione Granger squeaked, her hand shaking but held high in the air, asking permission to speak.

            "Ms. Granger, I am warning you –" Snape said quietly.  _Oh_ so quietly.

            "Hermione," Ron hissed.  "Are you mad?!  Put your hand down!"

            "Not as mad as he is," Neville cried, indicating their Potions professor.

            "I – will – only - say – this – _one_ – more – time," Snape continued - waiting.

            Harry Potter sighed and stood up from behind his desk before the Professor had a chance to bellow at them again.  He was still shaking, the fear of what could have been was frightening.  But it was now or never at a chance for leaving safely and he hoped everyone would follow his lead.  Draco had already stormed out of the room five minutes prior.  It was time for the rest of them to save their own hides and, well, retreat.

Harry picked up his things, his whole body shaking in fury and in fear and walked towards the door to leave.  _'How could this have happened . . .'_ his mind roared and his gut clenched with worry.

"Well that's _one_ of you!" Snape snarled.  "Why don't you all follow the golden-boy's example and _run_ _away_!  GO!"

            That was all the encouragement the rest of the class needed in order to follow.  The sound of chair legs scraping against cold, dungeon floors was followed by the sounds of numerous, retreating footsteps as the class finally left.

* * *

            "What the _bloody_ hell was that all about?!" Ron Weasley muttered, his face white with shock as he and Hermione both raced to keep up with their friend.  "Slow _down_ Harry, geesh!"

            But Harry didn't break his stride.

            "I've seen Snape angry before," Hermione panted, as she too tried to keep up.  "But not _that_ angry!"  

"Can you believe the nerve of Malfoy?  What was he on about?  It was as though he were trying to drop hints to Snape!  Like he knew something he wasn't supposed to.  And when he said –" Ron started.

 "Harry, where _are_ you going?!" Hermione cut in with confusion.

            Harry abruptly halted and Ron and Hermione both bumped into him unable to stop quickly enough.

            "Could you two just _please_ leave me alone?!" Harry asked quietly.  He was feeling a bit dizzy.

            "Harry?" Hermione had that worried look to her that drove Harry to insanity sometimes.  "Harry, what's wrong?"

            "Just – leave – me – _alone_," Harry ground out.

            "You sound just like Snape!" Ron glared.  "What is going on around here?!?!  Well?!" he prodded at Harry's silence.

            "Nothing!!!" Harry turned on his heel and left both of them behind at a loss for words.  What could he possibly say?  The truth at this point in time _wasn't_ an option.  It was all about the lies.  And he had had enough of them.

* * * 

            "MALFOY!" Potter's voice roared through the hallway right outside of the Slytherin common room.  "Get out here, now!"

            Harry was breathing hard, the rage that burned within him making him blind to reason.  He waited for the portrait to move aside, for the young Malfoy heir to step out from within – and sure enough he did.  

            "What's wrong, Potter?" Draco smirked.  "_Something_ _bothering_ you?  Or is it _someone_ who's _bothering_ you?"

            Harry growled low in his throat and moved forward, grabbing Draco by his shirt collar and pushed him roughly up against the cold, stone wall.  

            Malfoy laughed and winced, "This is so unlike what I saw before, Potter!  Last I recall you were the one who enjoyed being –"

            "SHUT UP!" Harry roared, tears blinding his eyes.  _'No one was supposed to have known . . . to have found out,' _he cried.  He tightened his grip on his nemesis' throat.  "I want this to end!"

            "Or didn't you enjoy it?" he smirked.  "Alright, alright," Malfoy choked out, still trying not to laugh.  "So you want it to end . . . but does Snape?"

            Harry could feel himself breaking out into a cold sweat, his limbs shaking and his heart and mind racing.  _'What am I going to do,'_ he thought to himself in a near panic.  "What are we going to do," he said quietly aloud.  His grasp on Draco loosened and he felt himself sinking to the floor.

            "Oh get up, Potter.  Don't be so dramatic," Draco sniffed.

            He was going to be sick.  Harry felt as if his whole entire life was out of control.  And here he was, at the mercy of not only Snape but now also _Malfoy_?!

            "Come on," Draco grabbed Harry by the arm and drew him up, to push him this time against the wall for some support.  "Let's talk business, shall we?"

            _'Business?' _Harry's mind echoed dully.  _'BUSINESS?!'_  

"Let _go_ of me, Malfoy!  I want nothing to do with you!" he yelled and jerked away from the other boy to run down the hallway, frantically trying to reach a safe haven that quite frankly wasn't there.

            Draco Malfoy watched Potter go with a grim sort of satisfaction.  He had been waiting so long for a moment like this – a moment where he was in control – where he had _power_.  Oh, it was wonderful.   It was delightful.  

            "Fine," he said aloud.  "I suppose it's time I spoke with Snape then."  Oh yes, he'd sort this out rather quickly with his head of house.  _'Not so much in charge of me now, are you _Professor _Snape,'_ Malfoy's mind sung.  _'Potter's misfortune is a moment's riches for me!'_

            He'd get what he wanted from both of them – he'd get all of it – with blackmail alone.

* * * 

**Thursday, November 9th, Almost A Week Ago . . . . Albus Dumbledore's Office . . . .**

            "You realize why am I asking this of you, Harry?" Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry sat behind his grand, wooden desk, eyeing the young man before him.

            "Yes sir," Harry said a little glumly.  He felt as though he had let Dumbledore down somehow.

            "It is imperative that you maintain as high of marks in potions as you have been in all of your other studies."  The old Professor continued, "Naturally I expect that with a little tutoring outside of class, all shall be well and your average shall again be at the top of the class."

            Harry sighed and felt his heart drop.  As if he didn't have enough on his mind without potions being there twenty-four-seven-a-day.  He had intentionally let his potions marks drop as he had had enough fighting with Snape to even get high what high marks he could in the first place.  It was his first surrender to a nonchalant academic attitude.  He had made this choice just a week ago and now, obviously, everyone was correcting it for him today.  

"Yes, sir," he agreed against his own reasoning.  He should just continue to flunk things for the fun of it.  Yep.  _'Oh you know you won't . . . You'll rise to the occasion and make everything right like you always do,'_ his mind scorned.

            "Professor Snape . . ." Dumbledore started again.

            Harry sat up in his chair, back rigid, heart going a mile a minute.  No one had said it was going to be Snape – no one . . . .couldn't it have been Hermione?!?!  Even _Neville_ was better?!?!  Dear God at least with Neville it'd all end quickly with one cauldron blowing up!  _'Oh just bloody great, it's Snape and there's nothing you can do about it,' _he winced.

            ". . . has agreed to tutor you every Thursday night after dinner," Dumbledore finished.  "It is your responsibility Harry to work hard and be there on time."  

            He had that damn twinkle in his eye again.  That damn twinkle.  

            "Your first session will begin tonight," Dumbledore smiled.

"Yes sir," Harry sighed.  "Thank you."  Right.

* * *   

**Thursday, November 9th, Almost A Week Ago. . . . Dinner In The Great Hall . . . .**

            "It's all for the best, Harry," Hermione gave him a stern look.  "Honestly, you should be thankful!"

            Harry let his fork fall to his plate with a clatter, "Thankful?!  Hermione?!"

            Ron glared at Hermione Granger and opened his mouth to speak, "Have you no sympathy for the poor bloke?!"

            "Of course, of course," Hermione soothed. "But Professor Snape is one of the _best_ potions masters ever.  Not only will Harry have him as a teacher – but also as a tutor beyond class!  That's twice the amount of teaching and attention that any of us get!  Imagine the possibilities," she said with a dreamy look that only an academic could master.

            "Why don't you go for me, then?" Harry scowled, picking up his fork again and poking at his mashed potatoes.  He had no appetite.

            "Because I already have an A.  And, well, because I'm not going to save the whole entire wizarding world someday," Hermionie grinned.

            Harry inwardly flinched.  He knew Hermione was teasing but lately he just didn't want to be reminded of that burden today, or tomorrow, or, well, _ever_.  

            Ron and Hermione watched as Harry stood up, leaving his dinner abandoned.  "I'll see you both later," he mumbled.

            Ron frowned with concern.

            "Good luck, Harry," Hermione waved with a happiness that Harry just didn't understand.

* * *

TO BE CONTINUED


	2. Held After Class II

HELD AFTER CLASS 

**by wretchedwriter (formerly known as wretchedscar)**

**© June 29, 2003; April 2004 onward**

**Rated R; HP/DM/SS – I think this might be a rather dark fic for me.  Don't know yet – we'll see where it goes.  If you want the steamy version – visit my site "Lifetime of Darkness" (as long as you are 18 and over).**

**_I know it's been a while waiting (um has ANYONE been waiting???  Hello??? ::hears echo:: hehe) for an update – for all of my stories – I know and I'm sorry – I'll try to get better about this honestly.  I've been a lazy-butt -  just on ff.net _**reading**_ all the other truly marvelous D/H stories out there.  My current favorite one is "Dare" – check it out – really good.  There's already fourteen chapters up – spoil my lazy-butt silly will ya? _**

****

**_Now – onto all you wonderful reviewers –_**

**Depressed gothic Teenager:**  LOL You crack me up!  Well here's a tidbit – sorry it's so late in coming.  Hope you're not too depressed and that you're still out there to enjoy it.

**Calyx-girl & Kamui: ** I know – cliffhangers galore – sorry, sorry.  Will try to make sure that no one falls over the edge.  J   Kamui – your English is fine – what language do you speak?

**Sondy:**  OKAY OKAY OKAY!  I respond to the word please, I truly do.  Hee. 

**Allesa:**  Thank you very much!  Nice to know someone wants this to continue onward!! LOL

**Wednesday Evening, November 15th, 'The Present' . . . Snape's Personal Chambers. . .**

Snape sat quietly in the large chair, by the fireplace in his personal chambers.  His mind was ablaze, as ready to burn as the flames that reached out to him from across where he sat.  He was not surprised when a knock sounded on his door.  Oh no, he had been expecting it.

            "Enter," he stated simply.  He heard the quiet sound of footsteps approach and did not even retrain his gaze.  "Ah, yes, Mr. Malfoy.  How _kind_ of you to stop by this evening," he sneered.

            Draco Malfoy snorted and regarded his potion's professor, his father's friend and, as he had just found out, deatheater spy.  "Oh, it's my pleasure, sir," Draco grinned rather slyly and sat down in a chair next to Snape's.

            "What brings you here?" Snape asked quietly, his gaze never flickering once.

            "Oh come on, Severus – let's not play this game shall we?" Draco sighed.  

            "Then what game shall you have us play, then?" the older, darker man finally moved, lunging forward in his chair to give a viscious gaze towards the younger boy across from him.  

            "We share the same secret, obviously and then some others," Draco stated quietly, not moving and not a bit intimidated by the matter.

            "Clarify, young master Malfoy," Snape flinched.  He knew what was coming but he _had_ to be sure.

            "You no longer claim loyalty to the Dark Lord."

            Snape snickered.  "Bravo.  Anything else?"

            "You are working personally with Dumbledore and the Order of the Pheonix."

            Snape paced a bit, feeling his hear tighten, his breath shorten.

            "And," Draco moved a bit more forward from his chair, a bit of pleasure on his face, "and the best thing of all – you're fucking the boy-who-lived."

            Severus Snape felt his gut clench and leapt out of his chair.  "You nosey, deceitful dangerous brat!"

            Draco smirked and and chuckled.  "Come now, Severus – why so upset?  You didn't look upset when you had Potter pushed up against your desk as you –"  Draco gasped as the older man quickly grabbed his shirt collar so tightly it cut off his airflow making him choke.  "You know _nothing _of the matter – you dabble so lightly in other peoples lives – intruding where you do not belong – if you say one word, _one_ . . ." Snape's grasp was weakening and his body had begun to shake.

            Draco jerked out of his head-of-house's grasp and laughed a bit amidst coughing to regain his composure.  "Oh right – you surely have the upper hand right now.  Do you honestly believe that I wouldn't find something worthwhile out of this?  Please."  He sat back down in the chair, crossing his ankles and looking a little more innocent than he actually ever was.  "Here's the thing – we can make a deal."

            It was Snape's turn to laugh.  "Oh yes, a deal – I'm sure."

            "If you still want to live another day then you'll listen to what I say," Draco stated quietly.

            Snape sat back down and held his head in his hands.  It was unbelievable.  Surreal.  Everything was quiet.  All he could hear was the wood burning in the fireplace – igniting in the darkness towards oblivion.  Oh what he wouldn't give to . . .

            "Was he willing?"

            The question came out of nowhere and it took Snape a moment to comprehend that it was directed towards him.  "What?" he asked quietly.

            "I said – _was – he – willing_ . . . to let you fuck him?" Draco quirked an eyebrow.

            Snape swallowed.

            "Answer me," Draco stated quietly.

            Severus Snape sighed, letting go of everything.  "No."

            "No," Draco echoed.  "Such a shame.  Though when I came in it looked as though you had things, had _him_ pretty well under control didn't you."

            "Shut up," Snape bit out.

            "Why did you do it?" Draco questioned again.

            "Are you going to tell me what you want or are we going to play with these endless questions!?!?" Snape roared, looking up with hatred in his dark eyes towards the young, stubborn boy.  They were, in every way, opposites.

            "We're going to stay up _all_ night playing with these 'endless questions'," Draco retorted, his gaze full of fury.

            "What does it even matter to you," Snape bit out, his hand clutching the arms of his chair so tightly the furniture itself creaked with stress.

            "It matters.  It matters a great deal.  Why did you do it?"

            "I wanted him."

            "You wanted him?  Just that?" Draco shook his head and licked his lips.  

            "I wanted to betray him, I wanted him to feel the sorrow and shame that I –"  Snape's throat caught and the words ended there.

            "So sad," Draco murmured slowly.  "So, so sad."

            Neither of them moved, said a word.

            "You're just like your father," Snape chuckled.

            "Hardly a time for levity," Draco brushed off a loose string from his cloak sleeve.  "But yes, we are rather similar.  Did you and my Dad ever give it a go?"

            "Why yes we did you sick and twisted brat," Snape stated quietly.

            "I'm not surprised." Draco shrugged.  "Now then – here's the thing – here's what I'm asking."

            "Oh you're asking, are you?" Snape smirked.  "I'll just bet.

            Draco stood up, stretched and then went to stand in front of the potion's master.  "You want my silence on this matter – from the Dark Lord, from my father . . . from Dumbledore?  Then you leave Potter alone."

            Snape didn't move – didn't breath – he couldn't – it was anything but what he had expected from this Slytherin.

            Leave Potter alone? 

            "You will not touch him, you will not fuck him, you will not even breathe around him," Draco stated quietly.  "I want Potter.  Potter is mine to have, to keep and to break.  Don't get in the way of that."

            Draco felt a power unlike any he had ever held over another being before – it was wonderful.  He turned to leave, his stride sure and his destination set.

            "Does it bother you that I had him first?" 

            The words made him stop, clench his fists and grit his teeth.  He didn't even turn around, just kept his voice steady.  "No, it doesn't.  Because I'll have him last and always."  With that he set out into the evening filled halls of Hogwarts to find what was now his, to find Harry Potter.

* * * 

To be continued. . . .


End file.
